And they sang a song about this
by sherridin
Summary: Circe casts a spell chaining Bruce and Diana together. (Yes we chain up our OTPs now)
1. Chapter 1

A quarter of a second faster and Bruce finally catches Diana off balance. They land on the mat with a thud. He presses down Diana's arms and throws all his weight on her torso, pinning her in place.

She can easily throw him off of course, but the round is over when one of them is knocked to the floor.

He's about to let up when his eyes meet hers. She's looking up at him, cheeks flushed, stray black curls sticking to her face and neck. In an instant everything's gone electric. All tangled limbs and shallow breaths - his senses are sent into a fray. He's playing with fire. He knew that from the moment he approached her that night, and yet here he is.

Bruce braces his hands on the floor and removes his leg over hers. He rolls over to lie on his back, sweat splattering the mat.

"Sometimes I wonder if you have powers you're keeping from us," she remarks, her breathing now more controlled. "How can an ordinary man move so quickly?"

Trying to slow down his heartbeat, he exhales, "Practice."

"Relentless I'm sure… but you're matching inhuman speed."

"It's strategy, gut feel," he replies. "I think of what'll you do before you do it."

Diana props herself up to peer at her partner. "You presume to know me that well?"

"It's worked so far."

Bruce can see a slight frown forming on her face before she gets up. She stretches out her hand to him.

Amused, he accepts it, and he's pulled up to be mere inches from her.

"What am I thinking now?" she says it teasingly, and yet her clear blue eyes seem intent to suss out the truth.

"You'll propose another round," he says, "and I'll have to decline. I have patrol."

"I actually _would not_ ask for another round, exactly because of patrol," she counters.

"Then I'm mistaken."

Diana tilts her head slightly. "You're quick to concede."

"You don't like it when I predict your actions. You don't like it when I'm wrong."

"I don't like it when you're being evasive."

Bruce steps back, not willing to play. "Not at all. I need to get ready."

He detects frustration in her eyes, but he's in no mood to further this.

"Mater Bruce," Alfred's disembodied voice breaks out from the speakers. "There's trouble in Gotham Museum."

* * *

A few hours later…

Zatanna greets Alfred briskly as the door opened. "I came as soon as Bruce called. Is it bad?"

"Miss Zatanna," Alfred replies, ushering her politely to the foyer. "You shouldn't worry, it's not particularly alarming."

"Are you sure? He sounded… tense," she remarks as they head to the familiar study. The smell of polish on dark wood and the musky scent of well-worn books immediately hit her with nostalgia. It has been a while since she has visited this old childhood haunt.

"You know Master Bruce," Alfred waves off, as he adjusts the hands of the grandfather clock. "He can be dramatic at times."

Zatanna glances at him, puzzled by the relaxed nature. But then again the good butler is rarely ruffled.

The clock clicks open revealing the narrow staircase.

Zatanna surveys the scene below as they descend to the dark cave. Batman and Wonder Woman are standing opposite each other with a work table in between. Diana holds her sword high and swings it down on the table, producing a loud clang.

"Will you stop?"

"It doesn't hurt to try."

"We did, a dozen times."

"You're exaggerating."

"It's chaffs."

"Oh sorry," came the sarcastic reply.

Alfred clears his throat, and the two figures straighten. "Miss Zatanna has arrived."

Moving closer, Zatanna can clearly see, lain on the table, the thick metal chain linking the shackles on Bruce's right hand to Diana's left.

Diana offers a sliver of a smile. "Hello Zatanna. Thank you for coming so quickly."

"We need your help," Bruce says.

"How –?"

"Circe," they both answer.

"Oh… she's moved on from animals now?" she asks, feeling a sort of déjà vu.

"Not quite, she turned the security guards into lions and tried to chain Bruce to one. I blocked her spell with my bracer, but it didn't deflect," Diana explains.

"We tried different methods," Bruce says.

Zatanna notes the scattered instruments on the table – laser cutter, some high tech looking ray gun. Judging from her teammates' grumpy countenance, they've been at it for a while.

"Even my sword crafted by Hephaestus didn't work."

"Yes it did not."

Diana glares at him. "Sometimes magical items have to be struck in certain counts."

"A hundred?" he asks dryly.

"Guys, shall I give it a try or would you rather bicker?"

Diana looks slightly abashed while Bruce nods stoically.

Zatanna positions herself in their middle and gestures her hands. "Niahcnu"

A puff of smoke appears but nothing happened.

"Esaeler meht!"

Nothing.

"Kaerb tahw si dnoub!"

A crackle of sparks shoots from the chain and both instinctively pull their hands inwards, stretching the chain taut. "Oww!"

Zatanna winces. "Sorry."

Bruce inspects the shackles. "Not a dent."

"Escaping from restraints is a staple of mine, I can do it in my sleep, but this is no ordinary bind," Zatanna says, inspecting it closely.

"As expected from Circe," Diana mutters.

"Did she say anything when she cast the hex?"

"Yes," Diana says, "_pseftiko liontari_ – something about a false lion bound to earth."

"False lion… for the people she transformed," Zatanna muses. "What happened to them?"

"They turned back normally when she left."

Zatanna frowns. "That's strange. What was she doing anyway?"

"She was trying to steal an artefact from the museum. An amphora. It's a ceramic container from Ancient Greece."

"Any significance?"

"We're looking into it," Bruce replies. "In the meantime." He raises his arm, "Can you do anything about this?"

"I can check my spell books if there's anything I can concoct. For now, I think you guys are stuck."

Alfred makes a sound - something of a snort mixed with a cough. They all turn to him. "Cold draft, forgive me. Shall I prepare dinner for three then?"

Zatanna observes Diana's strained look and Bruce's frown. "I think I'll pass. Better start cracking the books."

"Pity."

Zatanna says her goodbyes and leaves with Alfred for the main house. "You can be less giddy about this Alfred."

"Giddy?" he says the word distastefully. "I absolutely do not do giddy."

Zatanna grins.

* * *

Diana and Bruce enjoyed a dinner of grilled skirt steak, green beans, and cheese soufflé. Alfred was about to bring out red wine when Bruce's glare actually worked and he served water instead.

The act of eating wasn't as inconvenient as Bruce initially thought, especially with Alfred having the foresight to cut the steak into strips. They both favor their free hands and just use the other for assistance. He's become keenly aware of her presence with the chain serving as conduit to her every movement. They finally just settled both hands, side by side, on the table, and tried to carry on normally as if this was not an unusual scenario. Mostly they talked about their encounter with Circe and speculated on her motives.

Diana looks at the time. "When do we go on patrol?"

Bruce cocks an eyebrow. She says it so matter-of-factly as if she's part of Batman's team. "You assume we're going?"

"Why not?"

He looks at her without words.

She sighs. "Obviously it's an inconvenience but you rather skip a night just because of this?"

"I can ask Robin to cover for me."

"Is it a routine patrol?"

"Not really…" he admits, "I have an appointment." This was an understatement. The planned intercept was a month's worth of tracking and planning. But if he misses this, it won't be the last.

"I can wear something dark," she offers.

Bruce glances at her.

"If your concern is you don't want to let Wonder Woman be seen in Gotham, I can wear a disguise. Without my costume, they won't be able to tell."

He mulls over it. Appearance is one thing. Operations is a whole other animal. The chain is about 3 feet long. He can still move comfortably and fight well enough. But moving in tandem with another human being will take some getting used to.

As if she's reading his mind, she adds, "I'll stay at your back and won't be a bother."

Truth is Bruce will be hard pressed to find anyone who's better to fight alongside with. They've been teammates for so long, not to mention sparring partners from time to time. He knows her style and can roughly foresee her actions on the field.

He looks at the chain between them before finally answering, "Ok, just follow my lead."

* * *

Diana shifts in her position and wonders how Bruce can be so comfortable crouching down while barely moving. Her quickly assembled costume was something to get used to as well. She's never worn pants in combat for one thing. She also wore a black fitted top over her Wonder Woman armor, concealing even her bracers. Alfred actually had to sew one of the sleeves on because the shackles made it impossible to put it on otherwise.

They're on top of a warehouse now by the docks - their vantage point giving them a clear view of the vessels being unloaded. She trains her sights on the direction where he's aiming his binoculars and observes quietly.

"That man's nervous."

"The one in the cap," he confirms.

"Yes, he was looking at his watch and patting his jacket, where his gun is, I suppose."

"Keen eye."

She can't help but feel pleased. "What package are they securing?"

"Drugs."

He feels her shift and asks, "Too mundane?"

She thinks of a recent mission thwarting an alien overlord who wants to enslave the planet. "Actually yes," she says, with a small twitch of her lips. "I forget sometimes."

"Forget what?"

"That you take care of everything."

"It's actually not a simple thing. Drugs is the easy currency for the mafias. It finances their operations - weapons, bribery, black market."

"And the police?"

"The good ones try their best, but Gotham is still a city where money talks."

Bruce tucks the binoculars back in his belt and Diana realizes how the close proximity gives her a front seat of how the Batman operates.

"We'll move closer. Remember, when we engage, stay behind me. Favor your right hand. We can't both be using our chained hands."

She nods. They move to the next rooftop and waited for the right time. Finally they make a move on the truck. He counts 8 men, all armed.

Diana watches as he throws one batarang after the other, piercing the wheels of their transport.

The men take notice. "Someone's up there!"

"The police?"

"It's him. The Bat! Let's go, go!"

Some began opening the back of the truck, while the rest have guns trained at their surroundings.

"Now," Bruce signals as he throws smoke bombs on the ground, knowing Diana can see through it. They move from their hiding spot and disarm two men in quick succession.

Shots ring out and Diana guards Bruce's back, blocking bullets.

Immediately Bruce feels uneasy, he can't move as quickly as he's used to. Without the speed and element of surprise, he can't be at the offensive. "Diana, face my direction."

She does as he says and Bruce flings bolas on the thugs. The rope sings through the air and wraps around the legs of the men, toppling them over.

The remaining 4 men keep on firing. Bruce and Diana dodge as best they could, moving quickly to gain proximity for hand to hand.

The men can fight, but they barely pose a challenge for the seasoned pair. Diana lets Bruce take the lead while using more of her free hand and favoring kicks.

Finally only the man in the cap remains and he's putting up a good fight with a knife. Diana observes how Bruce's blocks are being slowed down with only one hand. He too was utilizing kicks more than usual.

Two shots suddenly ring out, coming from behind them. By instinct she moves to block them using the bound hand. The pull from Bruce reminds her of the miscalculated move and she abandons it quickly. The free hand blocks the first bullet in time, but the second one punctures her shoulder.

She groans upon impact.

Bruce makes quick work of the man in the cap.

Three shots now.

Diana blocks the two that made it into their vicinity. Batarangs fly, incapacitating the shooter quickly.

Bruce looks around for a final check before turning to her. "You ok?"

She nods with a grimace. She has forgotten the piercing hot pain of a gunshot wound.

Bruce inspects it closely. The bullet is still lodged in. No major artery was hit and blood loss won't be a threat if they move quickly.

"Let's go."

"Wait," she exclaims. "the package."

"We have to get that treated."

"What about the men?"

"The police are on their way."

"No, finish what we came for."

He knows she's right. They still have time.

Tearing his eyes from her bloodied wound, he acts quickly. He uses nylon to tie up the men in practiced moves, attending one body to the next.

Finally he turns to her. Is it his imagination or does she look paler?

"Let's go."

"Don't you have to –"

"Now, Diana," he says sternly, moving towards the Batmobile.

* * *

He's avoiding her.

While being chained to her and treating her wound, he's somehow avoiding her.

They're back on the cave. Diana sits on a metal table with Bruce stitching up the wound using his left hand.

Of course he's ambidextrous, she thinks idly.

He barely spoke a word since they got back, his face a mask of stoic calmness.

But she knows of course. She can practically feel the fury radiating from the man.

Against her better judgement, she finally says, "Just tell me."

"What?"

"Why you're angry at me."

His jaw ticks. "I'm not."

"Liar."

He finally looks at her, eyes dark as flint.

"So you're mad because I made the wrong move?"

"This whole thing was a mistake. I shouldn't have pushed through."

"But we did," she corrects him. "And it went fine - generally."

"Fine?" he grates the word. "It was a foolish attempt. We lacked coordination and this thing could have ended worse than it already did."

"It's a harmless wound, Bruce."

His fingers pause briefly. "Don't tell me that when I'm literally stitching you up," he says, his voice pitched low.

"I heal quick," she says annoyed.

"That's not the point."

"Then tell me!" she snaps. "Talk to me. You've been so disagreeable ever since we're stuck together. I know this is _such_ a waste of your precious time, but I did not ask to be chained to you!"

"Clearly," he retorts, snipping off the thread.

She grabs his hand. "Will you stop?"

He snatches it away. "When was the last time you missed a bullet?"

She shakes her head, at lost with the answer as much as the question. "I can't remember. Years ago. It doesn't matter."

"It matters!" he spits out. "This is my city, my ops. It matters to me if someone gets hurt."

"You stubborn man, can you stop blaming yourself?" she replies angrily. "I volunteered to go with you. And this wound is nothing."

He takes a deep breath. She can't possibly understand. It's a silly thing to worry about Wonder Woman – one of Earth's mightiest – being hurt by single bullet. But with her bright red blood staining his gloves, he does.

He couldn't explain himself so he doesn't try. He quietly applies salve on the wound and wraps it with bandage. He wipes off traces of blood left on her skin with a damp cloth, and as his fingers move to her clavicle, Diana marvels how someone with a surly mood can be this gentle.

When he's done, he steps back. She's looking at him with a mixture of exasperation and curiosity.

"I imagine you'll like to stalk off to your dark corner now," she says. "Sorry, you're can't."

He runs a hand over his jaw. "Obviously."

"Is it really that bad? You've been so cranky with this whole thing," she mutters, "like you're bound to the most repulsive person on earth."

That of course is nonsense. If he made such impression, it's because it's damningly opposite.

"You're not… repulsive."

"Well thanks. Then stop acting like you'd rather cut off your hand," she retorts.

"Now there's a thought."

She rolls her eyes, though the wry humor is a welcome sign.

He begins to feel the weariness of the past 24 hours. "Let's get some rest. We'll figure this out tomorrow."

He notices a look of discomfort pass through her face.

"Does it hurt?"

"No, it's –" Her face turns a shade of pink. "I need to pee."

He balks. He's going to kill Circe once this is over.


	2. Chapter 2

The bathroom situation wasn't as embarrassing as they initially thought it would be. Diana insists he put on an eye mask instead of just turning away and a pair ear plugs for good measure. She does the same on his turn.

What to wear to bed is apparently more fraught.

Batman's armor unlatches rather conveniently without need to destroy it. But the fitted black undershirt he wears would have to go. He's been wearing the shirt for more than a day, and he doesn't want to embarrass himself by smelling of sweat.

"You don't mind –" He lifts the edge of his shirt.

"Of course not," she says, averting her eyes.

He pulls it over his head and frees his arm from the sleeve, while the other sleeve he tears off.

In her close proximity, he's never been this aware of changing clothes in his entire life. It didn't help when he hears a hitch in her breath.

He spies another blush blooming on her cheeks as her eyes flit to his bare chest.

"I -," he gestures to the closet. "I'll get some pants."

He quickly changes to a pair of sweats, then rummages around to give her a pair plus a shirt.

He faces the other direction to give her privacy, and the rustling of clothes takes center stage in the otherwise silent bedroom. Fabrics rip and he knows she's removing the rest of the long sleeve top she wore to patrol.

"I won't be able to put on a shirt either," she says.

His heart stops.

"It's comfortable enough," she says, moving to his view - bare arms and shoulders, then finally a glimpse of the familiar red bustier.

His tense shoulders loosened. Of course. Get your head out of the gutter, Wayne. She has removed the gold plate of her uniform and somehow that modification made her red top seem tinier than the usual.

Bruce swallows, steadfastly directing his gaze on her face. "Let's go to bed." He adds, "to sleep."

"Of course, to sleep." Her teasing was meant to ease the tension but unsuccessfully so.

Walking to bed half-naked and chained to a goddess, the kinky nature of the whole scenario is not lost on Bruce. He can't help but think fate is serving him some twisted comeuppance.

After maneuvering themselves into bed, they lay stiffly as every move rattles the chain like the vexing reminder that it is.

Trying to find a comfortable spot, she shifts and tugs too hard. "Sorry."

"It's ok."

She wants to turn to her side but it would pull on the chain. The more she thinks of it, the more aware she is of her stiffening limbs. She lets out a breath.

"Counting sheep never really works," he says, his voice breaking the unbearable silence.

She turns to see him just as awake, his eyes looking straight up the canopy.

"I always find that saying strange. Why sheep?"

"I don't know."

"We don't have sheep in Themyscira."

"No?"

"We have goats. It's one of the island's staple foods. They make nice stews… Except I adopted a pet goat, so I stopped eating goat meat ever since."

His lips twitch. "How did you adopt a goat?"

"I was helping Asha with the cattle. And this little one was following me around. He had brown fur with a white spot on his forehead and left eye like an eye patch. I named him Biza."

"What happened to him?"

"Asha warned me not to get attached because he's part of the food supply. But Biza was so adorable with his big brown eyes and that cute bleating." She laughs. "So I begged Mother to keep him. At first she was mad. She didn't want to give extra privileges just because I'm her daughter - even if I'm the only child on the island. Eventually other Amazons took pity on me, and they petitioned to let me have him as a pet."

"Smart goat. He knew how to be saved," he remarks.

"That's what Artemis said. I took in a few more animals after him, but never a goat again," she says. "Did you have pets growing up?"

"Not really… I had riding lessons at a ranch north of Gotham. There's this black horse. Apollo. Shiny black mane, big and tall – at least from my perspective. But I think he's just a pony," he says with a soft chuckle. "My dad rode with me on the weekends. His horse was a beautiful brown one. We'd go around the ranch, have lunch outdoors with the caretaker, and just make an adventure out of it."

"Sounds nice," she says with a soft smile. "I didn't know you ride."

"I don't... After what happened, I didn't go anymore."

Diana turns to him. Against the moonlight, she makes out his sharp profile. He lies perfectly still except for the steady rise and fall of his chest. "I love horses," she says, "I used to ride everywhere - from one end of the island to the other. I'd love to join you if you want to ride again."

"It's a long time ago."

"Alright, but my offer stands."

He turns slightly and she catches a glimmer in his eyes. "Don't hold your breath, Princess."

She smiles in the dark.

* * *

Bruce wakes up with a delicious weight anchoring him to the soft sheets. He must have been on a tail end of a good dream. He feels warm and fuzzy all over – something he has not felt in a long time. His brain refocuses, eyes darting open as awareness hits him quickly in the gut. Diana is curled around him, an arm splayed on his chest, head tucked against his shoulder. Her soft curves fit against him like it's the most natural feeling in the world.

He swears under his breath. It's unfair. With her draped across him like a lover, his resistance cracks like thin frost.

She moans and shifts, burrowing her body even closer. God, she smells so good. Heat courses through him. He swallows thickly, trying to tamper down hot, potent desire. He cannot, cannot afford a cold shower.

"Bruce," she murmurs sleepily. The warm gust on his chest elicits a shudder. He swears again. Just before he extricates himself, he feels her hand drift to his stomach, trailing goosebumps along the way.

Shifting awake, she hums, lips stretching into a smile. Then her eyes snap open. "Hera." The Amazon rolls on her back. Immediately he misses the warmth and weight of her. She lies stiffly then drapes a free arm over her eyes.

Bruce clears his throat. "It's fine. Don't wo-" He turns his head to see her shoulders shaking, lips pursed to contain a grin.

He doesn't know what to make out of that. "What's so funny?" he asks gruffly.

"I thought – I was dreaming that I was hugging my goat," she snorts.

"A goat you called Bruce," he mutters.

She erupts into giggles. "Did I?"

Bruce sits up annoyed. "Are you done?"

She gets up with him, black hair tumbling artfully over her shoulders, blue eyes bright with glee. She bites her lip to keep from laughing and Bruce thinks some god is punishing him because she never looked more enticing than now.

His restraint must be pitched so low because her smile slowly falters at his stare.

She quickly gains awareness of the intimate setting - both of them barely dressed on his bed. Her eyes trail to his strong shoulders and muscular chest then travels back up to his darkening eyes.

"I don't have time for this, Diana," he says flatly. "We find Circe and end this."

She would agree but memories of the night are coming back to her. Sharing random stories and quiet smiles. She must have fell asleep in the middle of a conversation, his voice lulling her to sleep. She looks at his grim demeanor now and longs for a glimpse of the man last night. The words fly from her mouth, "Would it be so bad – you and I?" She shakes her head. "I mean, last night was -"

"Don't," he utters.

The swiftness of the dismissal annoys her more than the rejection itself. She glares at him. "Do you even know what I was planning to say?"

"We're not acting in our own volition, Diana. Don't be rash."

"We're hardly being controlled."

"No, but we're forced into a situation we don't want to be in."

That stings. The way he said it with clinical detachment stings.

She meets his slate eyes. "I guess I fared better as a pig. I heard you showed some affection then."

He exhales. "Diana -"

"Forget it," she interrupts. "Let's contact Zatanna and get out of this mess."

* * *

Zatanna's face looms over them on the huge screen as she relays her findings.

"Circe is no common magical being. While most spells have counter spells, I don't think there's anything in the book that can be applied normally to her."

"Great," Diana huffs.

"I did talk to some of my contacts and there's been some suspicious activity."

"Meaning?" Bruce asks impatient.

"There's been some theft of Greek artefacts for the past week. The amphora from Gotham museum is just the latest one. There's a xiphos – a sword stolen from a private collection. And Constantine mentioned one of his clients is missing an ancient bronze plate."

"Photos?"

Zatanna taps on her laptop. "I'm glad I'm prepared."

Two photos open and Bruce immediately scans them for information. "Is there anything else?"

"No trace of Circe on both accounts, but they might be related."

"Thanks Zee, we'll check your leads."

"Wait," Diana says abruptly. "Can you at least perform a scrying spell to track Circe? We don't have the luxury to wait for her to show up."

"I would need something that's hers."

"Is there any chance you have that lying around?" Bruce asks dryly.

Diana snaps to attention. "There's a museum in Bulgaria that has a kantharos – a silver cup – that's attributed to her. Legend says it passed through her hands but I'm uncertain of its ownership. Would that work?"

Zatanna mulls it over. "It's better than nothing. We can try."

"Can we meet you there now Zee?" Bruce asks.

Zatanna notes the pairs' barely hidden urgency and she can't help wonder what has transpired. "Sure I'll just book a flight – "

"Leave that to me. Just head to the airport."

Zatanna lifts a brow. It must be worse than she thinks. "Ok, I'll see you there."


	3. Chapter 3

Zatanna observes the pair as Bruce taps into the museum's security system. He uses his free hand to click on the keyboard, manipulating the system to their advantage.

Diana stands close by, but her attention is focused on their surroundings.

The two barely exchanged more than a couple of words since Zatanna has met up with them, and while she's dying to know what happened, she's not obtuse enough to ask.

"Done," Batman says. "Alarms disabled. Security footage is on a loop."

After locating the silver cup in the Greek section, Zatanna prepares the ingredients and puts them in the cup. Chanting the incantation, she throws in a lit match and the cup alights with blue flames. Zatanna moves to the map spread out nearby and hovers a crystal over it while repeating the spell.

By the third try, Diana watches the unmoving crystal at the end of the string with a sinking feeling. Of course it would take more than a scrying spell to point Circe's location. It's a laughable attempt were they not so desperate.

"We'll figure something out."

She turns to Bruce, surprised at his reassuring tone. After their heated exchange, the irritation she felt had simmered to seething anger. She can barely look at him while he's equally in a bad mood.

It's not the first time Diana has reached out to him, laying bare her feelings, only to be shuttered coldly. Wounded pride aside, it's his untruthfulness that has been the source of frustration. It might seem presumptuous, but she knows in her heart he feels something for her. What else can explain the moments of tenderness she's been privy to? Or the countless times the air between them crackles with energy that's impossible to deny? And yet, he refuses to admit it. Every single time she had broken through his guards, she's met with another formidable wall, just as stubborn as the last. And right now, she wants nothing more than to get away from him. This unescapable proximity seems to exist just to spite her.

Before she can reply, a flash of light floods the room and a cloaked figure appears at the center.

"You dare call on me?" a booming voice cries, "Have you no fear of invoking my magic?"

Lowering her cloak with a flourish, Circe faces her audience. Her purple eyes glow with delight upon seeing the linked pair. "Or perhaps you didn't have enough?"

"We're here to talk," Zatanna appeals. "You've left these two in a predicament, and we want you to break the spell."

Circe meets Bruce's eyes. "The Dark Knight should know by now what that would entail."

His gaze hardens. "We do not have time to cater to your amusements Circe."

She clicks her tongue. "The lovely singing wasn't just amusement, trust me. But now I want something more substantial. And I believe the Princess can give it to me."

Bruce steps forward as if trying to block Diana. She of course ignores him. "What are you doing with the artefacts you're stealing?"

"Stealing?" Circle counters, eyes flashing. "They belong more to me than to any of those silly collectors and greedy museums. For them it's something to display or auction. But I have lived it. They're my past and history. I'm afraid I've grown rather sentimental. My lovers are long dead – the good ones anyway, and I simply want to own something of theirs." She dabs an imaginary tear. "To remember them by."

Diana lifts up her chained hand. "And the reason for this?"

Circe waves her hand dismissively. "Oh you were in the way last time. I merely created a diversion. It's easier to get the job done without you nosy mortals trying to stop me."

"If it's nothing to you, then release us now," Diana demands.

The witch laughs. "You truly are the daughter of Hippolyta. I'm afraid everything has a price, Child. The man you're chained to can attest to that."

Diana glances at Bruce who gives an imperceptible shake of his head. But she continues. "What do you want?"

"I gave Odysseus a gold pendant during our time in Aeaea. I want the pendant back."

"Of the Odyssey?" Bruce mutters to himself.

"He and I have a complicated history, but I was truly fond of him," she sighs. "He was the one that got away, you know?"

Zatanna asks, "Why do you need Diana to get it?"

Circe's eyes snap back to Diana. "Because it's in her mother's possession."

A flash of protectiveness rises from Diana. "That can't be your only intention. You've tricked us too many times to take your word at face value," she says tersely. "What does the pendant do?"

Circle rolls her eyes. "Sometimes a pendant is just a pendant. I only learned of its location recently which is why I came to your pitiful call. A scrying spell, please. I don't give those any time of day."

"Well, you're here aren't you?"

Circle glares at Diana. "Easy, Princess. You ought to be thanking me with this spell. Honestly, I thought you'd be rather pleased. All that pining and brooding is getting too much, even for me. But surprise, surprise, you're still bound together," she says loftily.

Diana throws a questioning glance at Bruce, but his gaze is trained on Circe.

"Enough," Zatanna interjects. "Can you give us a few minutes of privacy?"

"Very well," Circe sighs. "Mortals can be so uptight."

Zatanna looks to Diana. "Have you heard of the pendant before?"

"I haven't, but Themyscira is home to numerous ancient items. It's not unlikely for the pendant to be kept there."

"No," Bruce objects. "She'll be using it for something else."

Diana turns to him. "We get free from this first, then we tackle whatever comes next."

"I don't think that's a good idea."

She glares at him irritated. "You're the one eager to get out of this remember?"

"Zatanna," he requests.

"No problem," came the quick reply as the magician steps away, relieved to be left out of it.

Bruce faces the angry Amazon. "Whatever is happening between us, we shouldn't let it cloud our judgement."

"My judgement is perfectly fine," she seethes. "I'm not stupid. We get the pendant, cast some precautionary spells, then give it to her."

He shakes his head. "We can't be sure those will hold up. She has the cards right now. If we give in, we don't know what we're equipping her with."

"It's not as if we have another choice," she snaps.

An odd emotion passes through his eyes. "There is actually."

Diana frowns. "What do you mean?"

"The spell - A false lion bound to earth," Bruce reflects, "I just need to be truthful."

"I don't understand."

"We're still bound together because I've been lying to you. And to myself."

"You're not making - " Then the meaning slowly dawns on her. Surely this couldn't be what she's thinking. But the guilty look on Bruce's face is all the confirmation she needs. For a while she just stares at him in silence - confused, frustrated, and triumphant all at once.

When he starts to speak, she says in a low voice. "Don't you dare Bruce. If this is what I think it is, don't tell me."

She can see the hesitation before he replies, "It is the truth."

"Stop," she says with a hiss. "If you confess right now just because you're under duress, I'll lose all respect for you."

She stares at him defiantly while trying to mask the hurt she's feeling. For years, she's been breaking down his walls, and for years, she been hoping it's the last one standing in the way. And now apparently all it takes is a stupid spell that forces his hand. He'll say it only because he needs to. It's just part of the job. Something that means so much to her for years has meant nothing to him. She feels foolish.

Bruce remains inscrutably silent, his mouth set in a grim line.

Diana can feel the hot prick behind her eyes. "You know what? You're right," she says, trying to hide the tremor in her voice. "It doesn't matter. My feelings don't matter."

"Diana."

"Just say it, Bruce."

"Are you done?" Circe calls out loudly, "Or do we have to work through all your issues before you reach a decision?"

Diana takes a breath and straightens her shoulders. But before she can speak, Bruce's voice sounds out. "We'll retrieve the pendant." His gaze is fixed on Diana. "You have our word."

Diana glances at him, surprise and uncertainty evident in her eyes. "_I_ will retrieve It." She turns to Circe. "That's why you have to release us now."

"Oh," Circe trills. "You don't make the demands here. I'll break the spell when I have it in my hands."

"You know men are not allowed in Themyscira. And my mother would be less inclined to give the pendant if I'm shackled to one."

After a moment's pause, Circe replies, "You have a point, Princess. I'll break the spell now. But remember, if you cross me, I'll give you another that's worse tenfold. You have 24 hours."

At the parting words, she's gone in blink, and the shackles fall away. The loud clank of metal reverberates through the hall.

They both stare at the chain that had caused so much trouble, lie harmlessly on the floor. Bruce looks up first. "Can we talk?"

When her eyes meet his, he immediately feels the hardened front. "I need to go," she states and turns to Zatanna. "Thanks for everything Zee. I'll contact you soon."

With that, she walks out to a nearby balcony and flies off.

Zatanna is left staring at Bruce. "I've never seen her this mad. What the hell happened?"

He exhales. "I screwed up."

"Yeah, I got that," she quips. "But how exactly – "

"It's the spell," he grounds. "She's formed from clay, and I'm the fucking cowardly lion."

"I don't follow."

"If I own up to how I feel about her, it'll break the spell."

Zatanna's eyes widens. She has witnessed numerous occassions on how her friend has cared for the Amazon and how he has denied it on each turn. "That's despicable… And genius really. Strong enchantments are ones that manipulate what's already there. I should have realized it sooner." A thought strikes her. "You knew early on, didn't you?"

He rubs his temple. "I had suspicions."

"Then why didn't you tell her from the start?"

Bruce glares at her.

Zatanna raises up her hands in surrender, "Fine, we shall not tackle your complicated feelings." She regards her glowering companion. "Hey, she'll be back soon. Let's wait for her return."

He nods tersely.

* * *

The journey to Themyscira has been uneventful. Ever since Queen Hippolyta granted passage back to the island, Diana has been visiting home a few times a year. She would have gone more had her busy schedule allow it. Every time she goes back, a pervading sense of comfort and peace envelopes her, equipping her for the time back in Man's World. She wonders if it's part of the island's magic or if it's simply a cure for home sickness. And now, more than ever her weary soul seeks its comfort.

Hippolyta embraces her daughter. "My little Sun and Stars, what a lovely surprise."

"Mother, I have missed you as always." Diana gives a genuine smile, though it is still not enough to lead a mother's discerning eyes astray.

"What's wrong, Diana?"

"You've only gotten sharper," she replies with an impressed tug on her lips.

"I know my daughter well, of course," the Queen replies, her blue eyes studying her.

"I cannot stay long and I have a favor to ask. I need a pendent that belonged to Odysseus. Circe is requesting that I retrieve it for her. I wouldn't give it up if it's a source of dangerous magic, of course. But if it's a harmless object, I wish to accomplish the task."

Hippolyta's eyes flash with indignation. "What compels you to do this Diana? What did the witch do?"

Diana sighs at the overprotective nature of her mother, though she expects no less.

She recounts the whole story without interruption, but skipping the parts of her true relationship with Bruce and the grief he has caused.

"And so, that's why I'm here," she finishes.

"I will have a word with that witch," Hippolyta bristles. "Chaining you to a man!"

"He's chained to me as much as I'm chained to him, Mother." Diana rolls her eyes. "And he was a complete gentleman."

"This is the Bat you say?"

"Yes."

Hippolyta peers at her. "The one you like?"

Diana looks at her in aghast, but soon cannot deny the truth. "He is a dear friend."

Her mother arches an eyebrow. "And?"

She sighs. "You do not have to worry. The affection is unfortunately – or perhaps fortunately for you – one sided. Nothing happened with him."

Hippolyta purses her lips and regards her forlorn daughter. "I did not expect you to isolate yourself from men in Man's World, Diana. That would be foolish. It's only natural to have desires."

Diana blushes. "Mother…"

"What I'm offended about is that witless, insolent man. I know you're fond of him from the stories you tell. He might be brave and true in his quest. But his heart could be too damaged even for you, Diana. Do not waste your love on a man who does not truly see you."

The words sink in, and as hard they are to accept, she knows she has given him too many chances and too many excuses. "I'll try to remember that. And do not worry, I'm perfectly fine."

Hippolyta holds her hand. "Oh, My Love, if you only know how lucky they are to have you in their world. You'll find what your heart is looking for soon enough. I promise you that. As for the matter of that blasted pendant, it does not possess any magical properties that I know of. But we can cast precautionary spells to guard it from misuse."

Diana delights in their shared logic and kisses her cheek. "Thank you, Mother."

* * *

A week later…

Diana walks out of her neighborhood café, a cup of iced mocha in hand despite the chilly day, and heads back to her apartment in Gateway City.

It was barely a block in when she notices a black Bentley moving at her pace. She stops, it stops.

Frowning, she marches right at it and knocks on the tinted windows. "Why are you –"

The window slides down, revealing the man he has been avoiding for the past few days.

"Are you following me?"

"You weren't answering my calls," Bruce explains, his black aviators reflecting her indignant face.

"With good reason," she says coolly.

"I know. But I hope to talk."

She takes a deep breath. "Leave me alone, Bruce."

She moves away from him and begins walking. The Bentley resumes to follow her pace.

Annoyed, she sips on her mocha, trying her best to ignore him. Eventually cars begin to pile up and blare their horns. Eyebrows raised, she looks at his direction. With the windows still rolled down, he asks loudly over the noise, "Can we talk?"

"No."

"Diana, please, just for a minute."

The driver behind him shouts, "Hey Lady, is this douchebag harassing you? I'll call the cops if you want."

"What?" Diana exclaims, "No, there's no need for that."

"Well if he doesn't move, I swear to God I'll call the cops. Driving slowly in this traffic is a crime." He honks again. "He's a menace to the streets."

The other cars honk in support.

She looks back at Bruce who's being his irritably dogged self. "Please, Diana."

"By Zeus!" Diana growls then stomps to the passenger side. She gets in and slams the door as loudly as she can without damaging it, though the crunching sound of the metal exterior proves otherwise.

She winces despite herself.

"Don't worry about that," Bruce says, as he accelerates to a nice cruise.

"I'm not. I ought to throw your car into the sun." Then fully dawning on her how she's coerced inside the car, she rounds up at him. "Do you want me to be even more mad at you, is that your plan?"

Bruce removes his shades. "What was I supposed to do? You're not picking up my calls or answering my messages. You're not even in the Watchtower these days."

"Which part of my ignoring you is so hard to understand?" she huffs. "I do not want to see you or talk to you. Let me out or I'll break this door down."

"I waited for your return," he continues, "but all I got was an update from Zatanna that you already gave Circe the pendant. I went searching for you, but it's as if you've dropped off the face of the earth."

"You don't know everything about me."

"I don't presume to," he answers quietly.

He runs his hand over his head, and she gets a glimpse of the faltering composure. "What happened back there... It was unfair for us to be put in that situation. I'm sorry if I made you think I don't care. Because I do."

"I'm sorry too," she says calmly.

He glances at her.

"I'm sorry my feelings got in the way of logic. You're right, there is a less risky way to resolve the spell. I should have been more practical about it."

Bruce grimaces inwardly at the icy bite. He had a whole apology mapped out, but judging from her temper, it seems inadequate now.

"You mean that?"

"Yes."

He doesn't answer, and Diana looks out the window in silence. For a while, only the faint rush of the car against the wind can be heard. She soon notices they're on the outskirts of the city. "Where are we going?" she asks, as country roads come into view.

"Horseback riding."

Diana looks at him for the first time since she got in the car.

"You said you'll accompany me," he ventures.

"Back when I cared," she mutters.

Bruce slows down and pulls over to the side of the road.

"I was suspicious of the spell from the beginning," he begins. "That's why I was so unpleasant. I did not want to be forced into something against my will. Especially about this."

She gives a hollow laugh. "Because it's the worst thing imaginable isn't it? Of all the things you can throw at the Batman, to be stuck with me is the worst possible torture."

"That's not what I meant. I care about you -"

"Bruce, please just don't." She sighs. "You don't have to explain yourself, nor do I want your pity. Just give me time, and things will be back to normal soon enough. I'm not holding anything against you, trust me. I just don't want to dwell on this anymore. Please?" She suddenly can't bear this anymore. "Can we go back now? Actually I can leave -"

"Wait, I want to explain -"

"Bruce-"

"Just one thing. Then you can leave this car and we'll never talk about this again."

She shakes her head but concedes. "Fine."

"I'm in love with you."

Her heart twist at his words.

"I'm sorry it took a fucking spell to make me act on what I want. And I want you Diana, for as long as I can remember. I'm sorry it's not in better circumstances. But don't think for a second it's out of convenience."

He's looking at her intently and she can barely process what he's saying. She expected an apology but not this. "What?"

"I'll prove it. I'm done pushing away the person I love. I want to fight for you now."

He says it with such open affection, she's in pure disbelief. The words linger in the enclosed space. "Just like that?" she says finally.

Bruce gives a self-deprecating shrug. "I'm here to confess."

She visibly softens but remains silent.

"You don't have to say anything. I just want you to know," he says before starting the car.

They drive for a few minutes more and turn at a bend that leads to the ranch grounds. He parks the car at the dirt path and they both get out.

Diana welcomes the cold, crisp air as a soft breeze ruffles her coat. From the expansive greenery, she spots two horses tied to the fence. A handsome pair of Thoroughbreds – one black, one brown.

A smile naturally forms on her lips. It's been a long time since she has last ridden. She turns to Bruce who's observing her.

"You know how to impress a girl," she says.

"I hope so." He hesitates before holding out his hand. It hangs outstretched for a beat too long that he thinks to drop it when Diana finally accepts.

Bruce gives a quiet smile as his fingers curl around hers. She glances at him and feels a flush sweep up her chest, inexplicably feeling shy.

Hand in hand, they walk towards the horses.


End file.
